Chapter 2: Jared's Story
**Note to the reader: This is the continuation of 'Karen and The Pool Boy,' my first submission to Literotica (it is suggested, though not required, that you read that story first). I have decided to write this part of the tale from the male perspective, both as a challenge to myself and as a way to fully describe the kind of character that I personally find most irresistible in the mature woman/younger man genre. This story is my own original creation, but I owe a debt of gratitude to the wonderful roleplay partners I have had over the years β there is a little of each of them in the character of Jared. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it and as always, feedback is adored.**
My senses were slow to return after the way Mrs. McMillan had made me cum. For a whole minute, I thought maybe I had just died of a heart attack or something, that was how good it felt. But in the next instant I realized I was still alive because I could feel her mouth on my cock, her tongue on my balls as she licked me clean. I was so sensitive after what she had done to me that it almost hurt but I didn't want her to stop. Slowly I struggled to lift my head from the couch and the figure of Mrs. McMillan, on her knees in front of me, came into view.
If what she was doing to me felt good, then watching her do it was pure heaven. She had my thighs spread open and as I watched, she alternated between suckling my balls and licking at my glistening wet shaft with her soft, pink tongue. What really turned me on, though, was that she was watching me watch her, holding my gaze with those amazing eyes that seemed to change color with her mood. She stroked her fingers along my inner thigh and I shuddered. Even though I had just blown the biggest load of my life I was still rock-hard and I wondered to myself, as my head lolled back against the couch cushions, just how I had ever gotten so lucky.
* * *
All those years I had been cleaning that pool and I could count on one hand the times that Mrs. McMillan had ever acknowledged me. Not that I was surprised or anything β she was a grown woman and I could never even get anywhere with girls my own age. Painfully shy and awkward, I was the definition of a late-bloomer: I sprouted to 6'1'' in the 9th grade and besides my unnatural height, I was also sidled with thick glasses to correct my myopia, big ears that stuck out from either side of my head, and terrible acne. I was a notorious klutz, famous for tripping over my own feet, and I was too chickenshit to experiment with cigarettes and pot like the popular kids did. My nerd status was cemented by the fact that I excelled in school and constantly brought home straight A's. My parents praised me as the perfect son and I was proud of my high GPA, but I secretly started to wonder if I was destined to live out the rest of my life as a virginal, scholarly dork.
Then, things started to change. I got contact lenses when I turned seventeen and my skin miraculously cleared around the same time. To top it off, I discovered there were a couple of sports I was actually good at. By senior year, I was on both the swim team and the varsity baseball team and I had finally developed enough muscle to fill out my scrawny frame. I was amazed because suddenly, out of nowhere, girls would talk to me in the halls or smile at me in class and I loved all the new attention. But there were problems. I was still very shy and very studious and worst of all, I was cursed with the stigma of being "too nice" to date. Alot of girls were attracted to me, but once they got to know me, they only saw me as the brotherly type or as the one they could come to when they needed a shoulder to cry on. When they wanted to get laid, I was left home alone to jerk off while they went out with some asshole who would treat them like shit. So it was that by my eighteenth birthday, my experience with women was still limited to a few brief make-out sessions and my own private sexual fantasies.
Mrs. McMillan, ironically enough, had held a starring role in many of those fantasies for as long as I could remember. I had only seen her on a few occasions but when I did, those brief glimpses would provide enough fuel for weeks of erotic fantasy. She had such a hot body - like a pin-up model from those old vintage calendars - and even though she was older, none of the girls my own age could compete with her dangerous curves. I had masturbated many times to the image of her big breasts squeezed into the top of her skimpy tennis outfits and just the fleeting memory of watching her bend over in a pair of shorts would make my cock throb in my pants. My favorite thing was to stroke myself while imagining that I was plowing her pussy with my dick, her incredible tits wobbling on her chest as she uttered a series of sexy moans. Pretending that I was buried inside her to the hilt, I would erupt like a geyser and fill the imaginary Mrs. McMillan with my hot sperm.
That said, you can imagine my surprise when I entered the backyard for what I thought would be just a regular afternoon of pool cleaning, only to find Mrs. McMillan there in a white bikini that looked like it was two sizes too small. My dick went stiff the minute I saw her and if anyone had told me that I would be shooting my load into her mouth a little less than half an hour later, I would never have believed them. Apparently miracles did happen - either that or this was the best fucking dream I'd ever had. When I managed to lift my head from the couch again, she was still watching me, wearing what could only be described as a Cheshire cat grin. I felt suddenly shy.
"Hi," I said stupidly.
She laughed. "Hi yourself, stud." She had such a sexy way of talking, her voice was so warm and sultry yet sweet, like audible honey. Her next words caught me off guard. "Was that your first blowjob, Jared?"
I couldn't help blushing and I dropped my eyes from hers. "Uh, yeah. How did you know?" I must have been even lamer than I thought if she could already tell.
"Don't be embarrassed," She was stroking my leg tenderly, as if she sensed my insecurity. "I just figured you'd never had a woman suck your cock because you seemed to take such pleasure in each sensation. The way you moaned, the way you squirmed... I could tell you loved it and you just don't know how much of a turn-on that was for me."
"Really?" Between the way she was touching me and the way she was talking, I was about as hot as a lit firecracker and as hard as I had ever been. This fact was not lost on Mrs. McMillan, who reached up and gave my cock a gentle tug. It felt so good β I shuddered and grit my teeth to keep from moaning loudly.
"Yes really, Jared. It's been so long since anyone has made me feel as sexy as you just did," She purred, giving my cock a couple more strokes before rolling gracefully to her feet in front of me.